


Surviving the News

by Fier



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Cancer Arc (X-Files), Canon Compliant, During Canon, Eating Disorders, Episode: s05e02 Redux II, F/M, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Mentions of Cancer, Passive-aggression, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sleep Deprivation, Unconsciousness, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fier/pseuds/Fier
Summary: Post ep for Redux II. By my count, Mulder didn't sleep or eat during the time he left Scully for Canada until he told Skinner the news of her remission. That's enough to make anyone pass out. As seen through Maggie's eyes.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Margaret Scully, Fox Mulder & William "Bill" Scully Jr., Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author** : Vickie Moseley  
>  **Email** : vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com  
>  **Date** : Thu, 24 Jun 1999  
>  **Category** : Post ep, A, MT (slight) MSR implied  
>  **Rating** : PG  
>  **Disclaimer** : Here we are, facing another summer in the middle of a cliff hanger. It makes me think of the last few summers of torture courtesy of Chris Carter. I won't infringe on his or any copyright, but would someone please get him and FOX to move up the season premiere. I mean, it is the last year, after all. How about September?  
>  **Dedicated** : To Sally, for helping me break my block, to Donna, for cracking the whip, to Susan and Kathy and Laurie and Shirley and Jenniferanne, just because you are you.

"It's the best news I could have ever heard," Mulder smiled tiredly at his boss. Hearing of Scully's remission put a look of astonishment on the ex-Marines' normally stoic face.

"What turned it around?" Skinner asked, when he could trust himself to speak.

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think we'll ever know."

The older man nodded. Hesitantly, he glanced toward the closed door. "Can I see her?" he asked, uncharacteristically sheepish.

Mulder smiled again. "Yeah, she's in there with her family right now, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Skinner nodded, then stood up. Cautiously, he knocked on the door and then entered. Mulder could hear the murmured greetings, knew without seeing the happy expression on Maggie's face, the somewhat guilty expression on his partner. There would be a lot of 'fence mending' when the dust finally settled, but it was good that Skinner was there, could see for himself what the latest 'chess game' had produced. Know for certain that it was a game of life and death.

Mulder looked down at the picture in his hands. The image of the little girl swam before his eyes. Suddenly, the woman he'd faced in the diner forced herself before his eyes, staring at him from the picture. She was glaring at him, rejecting him all over again. Believing a lie, instead of the truth he tried to tell her. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears burn his cheeks, and let the picture slide from his limp fingers.

He was so tired. How long had it been since he'd slept? Not the last night, he'd gotten maybe an hour of sleep at Scully's side before he'd gone off to get ready for the meeting with Blevins. Not the night before that, he'd been worried about her surgery, implanting the chip. The night before that, he'd found her in the ICU and Skinner had dragged him away from her side. No, no sleep that night, either. And the night before that, well, he'd been busy staging his 'suicide'. Had he slept at all in the last week? He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd closed his eyes and opened them feeling rested.

He wanted to go in and curl up in the chair by Scully's bed, fall asleep to the sound of her breathing. But not with Big Brother Bill standing guard over her like she was the Crown Jewels. Well, he couldn't really blame Bill for that. Scully was more valuable than the Crown Jewels. She was everything to him. And now maybe, he'd have her in his life a little while longer. He'd just have to content himself with that. He closed his eyes and they felt grainy, dry. He leaned his head back. Just for a moment. Just for a moment, then he'd be all right . . .

10:45 pm

Skinner had left hours before. Father McCue had taken his leave, reminding everyone that someone would surely miss him if he failed to show up for 6:30 Mass in the morning. Bill was trying not to yawn in the corner, he was still getting used to the time difference. But more importantly, Dana's eyes were drooping shut for longer periods. It was a long time past visiting hours, and Maggie decided it was time to go.

"Bill, I think we need to let somebody catch up on her beauty sleep," Maggie said quietly.

"M OK, Mom," Dana slurred, but didn't bother to open her eyes.

"I'm sure you are, Sweetheart. And I'll be here first thing in the morning. But I think after all the excitement, we all need a good night's sleep."

"S' Mulder still out there?" Dana asked, and Maggie ignored the snort from Bill.

"I doubt it sincerely, Baby. I would think he'd left a long time ago. Surely he wouldn't sit out in the hallway all this time."

"Wouldn't leave without telling me goodbye," Dana said shaking her head and snuggling down into her pillow. "Bet he just fell asleep out there. He does that. Sleeps better sitting up in uncomfortable chairs than in his own bed . . ." she muttered.

"How would she know that?" Bill hissed sourly to his mother and Maggie turned to give him a sour look.

"Behave yourself, young man. You might be too big to turn over my knee, but I'm still your mother!"

"Make Mulder go home, Mom. Tell 'im I'll see 'im in the morn . . ." The rest of the comment was lost in the pillow. Maggie smiled and brushed the auburn hair back behind her daughter's ear. It was good to know this night wouldn't be the last time she'd get to do that.

"I'll take care of him, Sweetheart. You just go to sleep. I love you." She leaned over and gave Dana a kiss on the forehead. Dana didn't flinch, she was already sound asleep.

"I'll take care of the sorry son of a . . ."

Maggie grabbed her son's sleeve before he could fully open the door. "Bill, I've just about had it with you and your attitude. Your sister is in remission! And you seem to keep ignoring that fact for some misguided vendetta you have against Fox Mulder. Now, if you can't maintain a civil disposition in my presence," she said evenly, deadly quietly, "then you can pick your bags up from my house and go home. Tonight."

"Mom," Bill sputtered. "You don't mean . . ."

"I most certainly do," Maggie said through clenched teeth. "Your sister still has a long road to full recovery. She doesn't need your negative comments about her best friend."

"Best friend," Bill snorted. "Yeah, right. She believes him over her own family. She defends him over anyone, she follows him even when he admits he's the one responsible for her illness."

Maggie shook her head. "Bill, sometimes you remind me so much of my older brother." Then glumly, she added, "I'd hoped you would grow out of it." With that, she opened the door and breezed out into the hallway.

It didn't take her long to find Fox Mulder. He was slumped in the horrible plastic and tube metal chairs that lined the hallway. His suit coat was slung over the chair next to him, his shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows. His tie was pulled down and the top buttons of his shirt were open. His head was resting against the wall and his hands were in his lap.

"Fox," Maggie said in a voice just above a whisper. "Fox, wake up. Come on, we're taking you home." When she heard Bill start to protest she shot him a glare and was secretly overjoyed when he shut up. "Fox, wake up. It's 11 pm. Visiting hours were over ages ago. It's time to leave."

Maggie frowned at the lack of response she was getting. She reached over and lightly shook the younger man on his shoulder. "Fox," she said, a little more loudly. "Wake up, dear. Time to go home." She noticed that he seemed to be sweating, even though the hallway felt cool to her. Again, he gave her no response, not even a shift in position to let her know he was starting to wake up.

"Fox, wake up now!" she commanded, pinching him on the earlobe.

Nothing.

Maggie bit her lip. "Bill, go get a nurse. And tell her to hurry."

The nurse from the floor soon called for a doctor. In minutes, there were three people in addition to Maggie and Bill, trying to assess what was wrong with Fox Mulder. The doctor took out a penlight and shined it in Mulder's pried open eyes. "He's not responding. He's unconscious." The doctor then grabbed Mulder's wrist and took his pulse. "He's pulse is rapid, he's sweating. I'm betting his B/P is elevated, too. Get him on a gurney, we'll take him down to the ER and see what's going on."

An hour later, Bill tried yet again to get Maggie to agree to go home. "Mom, they'd come tell us if it was serious. And they have our phone number. You're exhausted, c'mon, please," he begged.

She steadily shook her head, sitting with her hands folded on her lap. "I promised Dana I would take care of him. I mean to do just that."

Bill rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Mom, the doctors will take care of him. All you're doing is not getting any rest . . . again. You haven't slept well since Dana was admitted. You're dead on your feet. You have to rest or you're going to get sick yourself."

Maggie looked up at her son as if he'd just spouted the prophesy of Fatima. "Bill, oh my God, you're absolutely right! That's exactly what he did."

At that moment, the double doors to the treatment room opened and a young woman in blue scrubs stepped out. "Dana Scully? Is there a Dana Scully here?"

Maggie looked at Bill for a moment and then stood up. "I'm Maggie Scully. Dana is my daughter. We're here with Fox Mulder."

"Oh," the young woman said, trying not to appear too confused. "Um, is Ms. Scully available? The doctor would like a word with her."

Maggie shook her head. "She's unavailable. As a matter of fact, she's a patient in this hospital. She's in room 654."

The look on the young woman's face revealed that she knew all too well what rooms were housed on the sixth floor. It was the oncology unit. "Oh, well, then, I suppose . . ."

"If you look on his emergency card, I'm listed as the other contact, in case my daughter's not available," Maggie suggested.

The young woman looked down at the small wallet sized card in her hand. "Oh, I guess you are," she said brightly. "Well, Dr. Marrin would like to speak with you, if you'd follow me."

Bill looked at his mother, as if waiting for directions. Maggie nodded and he followed along behind her. The nurse, as Maggie had since determined the young woman to be, lead them through the curtain treatment room and into a smallish office off to the side. There were two chairs situated in front of a gray metal desk. X-Ray display units were fixed to the wall and a bookcase contained several medical journals behind the desk. Maggie sat down and Bill lowered himself next to her.

A tall man in his forties with graying hair and a boyish grin knocked once on the door to alert them of his presence. He stuck out his hand to first Bill and then Maggie. "Hi, I'm Bob Marrin. I'm overseeing Fox' care. Thanks for letting me talk to you." Maggie quickly introduced herself and Bill as Dr. Marrin sat behind the desk and opened the chart in his hand.

"How is Fox?" Maggie asked anxiously.

"Well, I expect him to be feeling a lot better already, and with some rest, we should have him back on his feet in a week or so," Marrin said lightly, glancing through the file. "Has Fox shown other signs of hypoglycemia?"

"Excuse me?" Maggie asked in confusion. "Fox is not diabetic."

"Oh, I didn't say he was. His blood sugar is just in the cellar. 48 mg to be exact. We'd be concerned at anything under 55, especially given his frame and height. And he appears to be suffering from total physical exhaustion. I'm hoping he wakes up soon so we can get a better picture of what we're dealing with."

Maggie tried to keep the shock from her expression. "My daughter has been sick, I know he's been worried about her. He took a trip, maybe he . . ." she trailed off, lamely attempting to explain how Fox could have allowed himself to run down to such a state. "What can be done for him?"

"Well, we've already taken the first steps. I figure he lost consciousness because of the blood sugar level. We're getting that up immediately with some glucose in an IV and he'll be continuing that drip for at least the next day. It sounds sort of silly to say this since he's unconscious, but he needs rest, and I'm prepared to sedate him if he has trouble sleeping after he comes around. He's 15 pounds under the weight stated on his driver's license, I want to work on that, too. I think the hypoglycemia may be a symptom of too many missed meals. More than you would expect from a normal adult, that's for sure." Marrin seemed to stop for a moment, assessing that information. "I take it this has been a stressful time for Fox."

Maggie nodded. "For all of us, but yes, most definitely for Fox. My daughter, she's Fox' partner and she's also listed as his next of kin, is on the cancer ward."

"And your daughter's prognosis? It could affect his recovery," Marrin said gently.

"She's in remission. We got the news today," Bill offered.

The doctor nodded with a knowing look on his face. "That's wonderful, but it also explains what we're dealing with. The crisis is over and everyone should be out celebrating. But every once in a while, one of the family members has let themselves get too run down from the worry. But I think we caught it in time, before permanent damage was done."

"Permanent damage?" Bill repeated.

"Seizure, heart attack, stroke. Extreme stress and hypoglycemia can do that, it's well documented. But we don't have to worry about that right now."

By this time, Maggie was leaning forward, elbows on the arms of the chair, hands covering her mouth as she felt her stomach hit bottom. How could she have not noticed? But it was always Dana who looked after Fox. Maggie's mind snapped back to the days when Dana had been missing. How many times had she practically force fed the desolate young man who would find his way to her porch at all hours of the day and night. She knew he didn't sleep, knew sometimes the food she was shoveling in him was the only food he'd consumed in days. And she'd let it happen again.

Bill gripped her knee and squeezed it, then turned his attention back to the doctor. "What are you going to do then, admit him?"

Marrin smiled and nodded. "I want to keep him in the trauma room until he wakes up, but I'm definitely admitting him. I don't think he could walk out the door to the parking lot in his condition. And I want him to eat. He's probably not going to like the diet I'm ordering. I want him on high protein, high nutrient supplements for the next day or two. For his sake, let's hope they improved the taste. In addition I want him to eat as much of a regular diet as we can get in him. And he will be confined to bed, I want complete bed rest for the time he's here."

"How long do you expect to keep him?" Maggie asked, swallowing hard.

"I think we should have things turned around in two days, three tops. And then I want him resting at home for a couple of days before he goes back to work. I've never seen anyone so totally fatigued. I'm surprised he could drive. It's a good thing he passed out in the hallway, and not on the freeway going home from work."

"Dr. Marrin, um, sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Mulder is awake and uh, rather adamant," the same nurse from earlier said sheepishly from the doorway.

"Please, can I see him?" Maggie asked anxiously.

"That would probably be best," Marrin agreed and the nurse motioned for Maggie to follow her, with Marrin and Bill following behind.

"I don't need an IV! And where the hell are my clothes?" There was no mistaking that voice, and there was no mistaking the determination behind it. Maggie approached the curtained trauma cubicle with a good dose of trepidation.

"Mr. Mulder, you were brought in unconscious, not responding to painful stimulus. That is not good. Your blood sugar is almost non-existent . . ."

"Then throw me a Snickers bar while you hand me my clothes," Fox sneered and Maggie pulled the curtain aside just as he was attempting to remove the IV needle from his hand. He stopped cold when he saw her there.

"Mrs. Scully," he said, his breath coming in short gasps. "Has something happened to Dana? What are you doing here?"

Maggie walked the three steps over to the gurney and took Fox' hand in her own, putting an end to any further attempts at ditching the IV.

"Fox, Dana is just fine. Just as fine as she was when you talked to her at 6:30. It's you that I'm worried about."

He dropped back down to the pillow, exhausted. "Me? There's nothing wrong with me. I just need to go get some sleep. I'll be fine."

Marrin took that as his cue to join the discussion. "Mr. Mulder, I'm Dr. Marrin. It appears to me that you're a little shy of 'fine' at the moment. Could you tell me when was the last time you had five or more hours of uninterrupted sleep?"

Fox blinked at him. "Five hours straight? I have insomnia, Doctor. I'm lucky to get five hours all together on a good night."

"Well, then, how about five during the course of a night?"

Fox chewed on his lip and Maggie stared at him, wide-eyed. "Fox, where did you sleep last night?"

He picked at a loose thread from the sheet covering him. "Uh, I, um . . . I was here," he said in a tiny voice that she almost didn't pick up.

"Here? In Dana's room?" she asked. She could hear Bill scuffing his shoe angrily behind her and hoped he would keep silent for once. Fox didn't look up, only nodded.

"You slept in the chair?"

Again, with downcast eyes, he answered, but this time with a shake of his head. "I, uh, didn't sleep. I just . . ." He let his voice trail off and turned his head away from her face and toward the curtains.

"How long?" Maggie asked, trying hard to keep the anger out of her voice. She knew she wasn't angry at Fox, she was angry at the whole situation. How could she have not seen this happening, right before her eyes?

He shrugged his shoulders. "I honestly don't know."

Dr. Marrin made a note on his chart. "Should I dare ask when you last ate?"

Fox sighed. "I had coffee and a candy bar around 11."

"Eleven o'clock yesterday morning?" Maggie exclaimed, not bothering to hide her shock.

"It was a long day at the office," Fox said with a lop-sided grin.

"Well, here's the way it's going to work," Marrin said, all business. "You have successfully run yourself into the ground. You have messed up your sleep patterns, you almost starved yourself. I imagine that if it weren't for coffee, you'd be dehydrated, too. And at your age, that's on the long side of stupid."

He waited for Fox to respond, but the young man just sat sullenly. Marrin continued. "I want to admit you tonight, keep you here a few days. I want to get your blood sugar up, I want you to rest, and that means sleep. If you are an insomniac, I can leave orders for a mild sleeping pill, it is optional only if you can fall asleep on your own. And I want you to eat, which will include nutritional supplements. Those are not optional, either."

Fox stared at the doctor as if he'd just sprouted wings. "I'll be needing my clothes, now," he said evenly, and started to get up off the bed. Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but Bill stepped up and beat her to it.

With a hand firmly on Fox' chest, Bill pushed him back onto the gurney. "Don't be an asshole, on top of a sorry son of a bitch," he warned. For a minute, Maggie was afraid a fight would break out, so she leaned forward and put her hand on Fox' arm.

"Please, Fox. You scared me tonight. You may not think so, but you are sick. And you aren't going to do Dana any good unless you take care of yourself. Please. If not because I'm asking you, do this for Dana."


	2. Chapter 2

**7:45 am**

The struggle ended quickly and quietly. After Maggie's impassioned plea Fox had simply wilted back onto the gurney. He was taken up to a private room, just one floor below Dana. Maggie figured there could be some problems with that and alerted the nurses on each floor, in case anyone decided to 'wander'. Then she and Bill had left for the night.

In the morning, Maggie opted to stop and look in on Fox before going up to see her daughter. The nurse had assured her that he'd slept through the night. She was glad to see that he was awake.

Awake, and grumpy. He was reclining against his raised bed, staring glumly at a white can with a straw sticking out of it. He looked up when Maggie entered and immediately sat up straighter in bed.

"Good morning, Fox! You look better than when I saw you last night," Maggie said cheerfully and leaned over to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

Mulder blushed and then looked toward the windows. "I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Scully. I really didn't mean to pass out like that. And I'm sorry that I caused a fuss in the ER."

"Well, I certainly hope you didn't pass out on purpose, Fox," Maggie chided, then smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "And the ruckus in the ER, well, nobody likes to be told what to do. But it's for your own good, and you know that." She looked at his tray, hoping to change the subject. "So, what have we here?" She picked up the can and read the side. "Strawberry. That should be a good flavor."

"It would be, if it tasted like 'strawberries'," Mulder said dryly. "Instead, it tastes like chalk and I've never been much of a chalk fan first thing in the morning."

"I'll see if the nurse can get you another flavor, say chocolate? Or how about vanilla?"

"How about we skip it?" Mulder interjected, hopefully.

Maggie's face grew serious. "You have two choices, Fox, aside from the flavor. You can drink it through this straw," she said, holding up the can to show him. "Or they will have a nurse and an orderly come in here and sedate you, then they will administer a nasogastic tube through your nose and feed you that way." She had to bite her lip when he flinched at her words, but she didn't change her stern expression.

"I'm not a baby. I can feed myself," he said in a whisper.

She reached over and gently rubbed his arm. "I know you can. You've taken the full weight of Dana's illness on your shoulders and you've never said a word. But Fox, this has to stop. She needs you as much today as she needed you yesterday. As much as she'll need you tomorrow. You have to get better, stronger, so you can help her. Can you understand that?"

He blanched at Maggie's words. "Does . . . does she know where I am?" he winced.

"What do you think?" Maggie shot back with one eyebrow raised.

Mulder shook his head and let out a short chuckle. "No. Or there would be a hole in the door the size of a wheelchair."

Maggie laughed. "Precisely. Now, I'll make you a deal. You finish this can now, while I'm here, and I'll go up and see Dana. You take a nap for an hour or so and when you wake up, I'll see about getting her down here for a visit. Fair enough?"

In answer, Mulder picked up the can, sucked on the straw, wrinkled his nose and swallowed. In a few moments, and a lot of sour expressions, the sweet sound of the bottom of the can resounded through the quiet room. Maggie smiled proudly and got off the bed. She lowered the head of the bed and tucked the covers up under his shoulders a bit. "Now, sleep a while. We'll be back before you know it."

Maggie stood in the doorway and waited for a moment. She was pretty sure Fox would have trouble falling asleep, especially since he'd slept through the night. But to her surprise he was out like a light. She closed the door and went up to find her daughter.

"Mom, I thought you were coming early this morning," Dana greeted her as she stepped in the room. Her daughter's hair was still damp from her shower and curled around her face.

It was amazing what a difference a night made. Yesterday, when Maggie had walked into the room, Dana had dark circles under her eyes, her skin was pale and splotchy, her hair dull and lifeless. She looked as if she was standing at death's door. But the young woman sitting before her was a totally different story. She was smiling, her eyes were bright, even though a shadow of the dark circles remained. Her skin color was returning. Even her hair seemed to sparkle in the sunlight streaming from the window.

I wish Fox could see her this morning, Maggie thought to herself. Well, I'll just have to arrange it, she decided and then caught herself. She had a lot of explaining to do.

"Mom, I tried calling Mulder and he's not at his apartment or the office. His cell phone must be switched off, too. Did he say anything to you last night when you chased him home?"

Maggie sat down on Dana's bed and took her hand. "Sweetheart, Fox didn't go home last night."

Dana looked confused, then smiled. "You dragged him home with you," she said with a knowing smirk. "Bet Billy loved that," she laughed.

Maggie couldn't help but smile in return. They'd had so little to smile about in the last several months. "He would have, that's true, but that's not what happened, either. Sweetheart, Fox is here, in this hospital. As a patient. He was admitted last night."

Dana's smiling face clouded immediately. "Why? What's the matter? Was he in an accident? My God, Mom, why didn't you wake me last night? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she demanded.

"Dana, calm down. He wasn't in an accident. And if you promise not to interrupt me, I'll tell you exactly what happened." In as much detail as she knew her daughter would demand, Maggie explained the events of the previous night and what had transpired that morning. When she was finished, Dana was sitting in almost the same position Maggie had been in Dr. Marrin's office, elbows on drawn up knees and hands covering her mouth.

"Oh, God, Mom. This is my fault. Oh God, I didn't . . . I mean, I should have noticed, but I was so preoccupied . . . How could I let this happen?" Guilty tears were slipping down her face and she wiped angrily at them with the hem of the sheet. "I have to go down there, I want to see him. Now!"

"Dana, he's sleeping. And according to the doctor, that's the best medicine he could be getting right now. He slept through the night last night. I was surprised he could fall asleep this morning without a sedative, but he was out before I got to the hallway. How does he do that?"

Dana smiled again, through her tears. "He's always been like that. On really rough cases, when we both lose a lot of sleep, Mulder usually takes a day or two off and crashes. He sleeps all night and all day and then maybe the next night. It amazes me. Then he comes over to my place with an extra large pizza and I'm lucky if I get one slice and the fallen off mushrooms. He devours the rest. The next day, we're back to normal." Her smile faded, slightly as she remembered her mother's tale of the previous night. "But he's never been this run down. My God, Mom. He could have had a heart attack, with blood sugar that low. He could have gone into a coma. He _did_ almost go into a coma." She sniffed loudly and chewed on her lip.

"I told the nurse on his floor to call us here when he wakes up. If you're feeling up to it . . ."

Dana's eyes narrowed. "Do you even need to ask, Mom?"

Maggie laughed. "Well, I think I've discovered a way to keep you _both_ in line today. If you're good, and rest as your own doctor wants, you can go down and see Fox. And if he rests and eats, I'll bring you down."

"If all else fails, Mom, a pointed gun works wonders on him," Dana grinned. Before Maggie could express her shock and dismay at that statement, the door opened, and Dana's breakfast tray was brought in. Maggie watched happily as her daughter picked up her knife and fork and dug into the eggs and sausage, english muffin and fresh fruit on her plate.

Their morning was spent talking. Bill came by to take his leave, he was anxious to get back to San Diego and Tara, who they'd just found out was expecting at Christmas. Maggie suspected he also wanted to avoid another inevitable confrontation with Dana over Fox. She kissed her son on the cheek and smiled to let him know he was still loved.

"Mom, it's almost 11:30. Lunch trays will be coming around soon," Dana complained.

Maggie sighed. She'd expected a call from Fox' nurse by that time. When she'd left him, she figured Fox would sleep an hour or so, not the three hours that had already passed. It was beginning to worry her, too. And Dana was anxious to make sure exhaustion was the only thing wrong with her partner. Finally, Maggie walked into the hallway and came back with a wheelchair.

"I can wa- . . ." Dana started to object, but the stern look on Maggie's face cut her off in mid-rant. "OK, but I'm not going to make a habit of this," she concluded as she lowered herself into the seat.

Maggie just shrugged. Dana's doctor thought she should stay in the hospital at least another three days, just to gain her strength back. That would put her release on the same day as Fox. It was going to be a long three days, and Maggie needed to steel herself for it.

The nurse reported that he'd slept through his morning vitals. His heartrate was back to normal and his blood pressure was showing improvement. They'd taken blood early in the morning and his sugar levels were now over the 55 mg that the doctor had spoken of at their conference the night before. But he was still asleep.

"Dana, I don't like this," Maggie whispered to her daughter as the nurse left them alone in the room.

"It's OK, Mom. Mulder can sleep through anything, when he finally falls asleep. It's getting him to that point that's the problem." She leaned forward in her seat and brushed her fingers across his cheek. "Hey, Mulder. Wake up. It's time for you take your turn at the watch," she said softly, right by his ear.

He fidgeted and swiped at her hand. "M up. I'm up," he muttered, arching his back and stretching his arms. When his IV got caught on the bed rail and tugged at his hand, his eyes flew open and he let out a curse. "What the hell!"

"Mulder, . . . hey, how are you feeling?" Dana said, stifling a grin. His eyes shot over to her and he couldn't stop the smile that came to his face.

"Aren't we in the wrong places?" he asked, as she reached over and took his hand.

"I was thinking the same thing. What in the world did you do to yourself, Mulder? I could have told you that gray suit had plenty of room, you didn't have to try a starvation diet," she teased.

He flushed slightly. "I just sort of . . ."

"Well, we'll talk about what you just sort of did later." On cue, the nurse knocked on the door and brought in two trays, then winked at Maggie.

"I figured this would go cold if they took it upstairs," she said lightly and arranged the tray table to accommodate both patients.

Mulder took the cover off his meal and stared, openly disgusted. "Scully . . ."

"Nasogastric tube, Mulder," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"But can't they at least make me eat things that are . . . edible?" he whined and used his fork to poke at what appeared to be meatloaf. A perfectly rounded scoop of potatoes underwent the same treatment. "And no gravy? What are they? Savages?"

She ignored him and uncovered her own plate. It was probably supposed to be baked chicken, but it was difficult to identify. She got plain white rice and some rather wilted looking green beans to round out the meal. She sighed.

"Trade ya," he mocked at her.

"You aren't funny," she shot back.

Maggie was trying hard not to rip open at the seams. "Enough, both of you!" she said, stifling the giggles. "They expect you to eat this. It's good for you. It may appear a little less than appetizing right now, but if you are both very good and clean your plates, I'll bring you pizza tonight for dinner."

Two sets of eyes opened wide in undying gratitude. "Provided your doctors approve, of course," she added. The gleam faded from the blue eyes, but a twinkle of hope remained in the hazel ones.

"I'm supposed to eat fattening stuff," Mulder reminded her. "And I know Dana lost weight with the chemo."

"Yeah, mom. If you put some green peppers and onions and mushrooms on it, we can call it a salad," her daughter said with a grin and a wink.

Mulder was taking bites out of his meatloaf when the nurse appeared again. "Oh, Mr. Mulder, I almost forgot. You have to finish another one of these, too." She plopped a can similar to the one he'd struggled through at breakfast on his tray and left before he had a chance to comment.

"No, absolutely not! Threaten me with NG tubes, stick needles in my eyes, I am _not_ going to drink that sewage again!" he howled.

Maggie started to move forward to calm him down, but Dana beat her to it. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "I have to drink the same slop, Mulder. Whatever is good for the goose . . ."

"You are _not_ a goose, Scully. And I'm not a gander! And that stuff is toxic!" But the wind was out of his sails. His shoulders were sloping downward and his eyes were looking droopy.

She reached over and took his hand. "It's how we get out of here," she said softly. For a few brief moments, they lost themselves in a conversation held only with their eyes.

"When do you get to go home?" he asked, the little boy voice almost breaking Maggie's heart.

"Same day as you," Dana said glibly. Maggie knew it was probably true. Her daughter would find a way to make sure they left the hospital together.

"And you're both coming home with me," Maggie announced. "I think I need to keep an eye on you, mister. We need to teach you about three square meals a day and sleeping at least eight hours a night."

Fox smiled. "I don't think that's a problem, at least for a day or two. But seriously, Mrs. Scully, this is ridiculous. I'm fine, I'll go home and crash and I'll be good as new day after tomorrow. Can't you spring me?"

Maggie was about to launch into a tirade when once again, Dana jumped in first. "Mulder, I think this time, maybe we need to try a different approach."

He looked at her, perplexed. "I'm not following."

"After I was returned, I went right back to work, right?" She waited for him to nod in agreement. "And after we got you home from Alaska, we were out on a case within a week, weren't we?" He shrugged his shoulders and nodded again. "When you returned from the dead in New Mexico? The trip to Canada, after your mom's stroke?"

"We went back to work. I see the pattern, Scully, I'm just trying to find the flaw in the logic."

"The flaw is that we don't allow ourselves any _time_, Mulder. In the past, we've gone from deathbed to roadtrip in a matter of days, sometimes hours. We don't give ourselves any time, to decompress, to relax, . . . to realize what we've just survived."

He sat there in silence for a moment. "Sometimes I don't want to realize what we've just survived. It's too . . . spooky," he admitted quietly.

"This time, I think we should. Just this once." She was pleading with her eyes, and he sat there mesmerized by her gaze.

"I promise, positively _no_ cans of strawberry chalk," Maggie offered.

Mulder's eyes dropped to the blankets, but he let out a chuckle. "I would much prefer _your_ meatloaf, Mrs. Scully."

"I second that motion, Mom. You fix the meatloaf, and mashed potatoes _with_ gravy," Dana said with a smile to Fox.

"And we'll both show up for dinner, and maybe stay for a night, or two," Fox said, taking his partner's hand and lifting it to place a soft kiss on the knuckles.

Maggie smiled at them both. "It's the best news I could have heard."


End file.
